


Taking Peter’s Suit

by otomiyatickles



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Strict Tony, Tickling, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, punishment tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 07:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16909173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otomiyatickles/pseuds/otomiyatickles
Summary: My favorite sceneof the movie actually but yay let’s ruin it; there’s this beautiful 1:41 cut from this rooftop scene to Peter wearing that NYC shirt so let me just enter a little something in between those. One does not simply take Peter’s suit.... unless it’s Tony Stark 😂.





	Taking Peter’s Suit

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to [otomiya-tickles.tumblr.com](http://otomiya-tickles.tumblr.com/) \- 1/4/'18.  
> 

“I don’t have any other clothes...” Peter felt hopeful for one tiny half of a split second when Tony stared at him, as if this could have changed his mind, but then the reply came:

“Okay we’ll sort that out.” Tony even took a step closer, and Peter held his breath. The firm look the adult was giving him almost confirmed the one thing Peter wasn’t planning on doing before Tony opened his mouth and double-confirmed it.

“Well? Take it off.” Really now? Peter wasn’t sure what to be shocked about more: about Tony Stark telling him to strip here on a rooftop or about Tony’s suit suddenly taking off like that, only to return in less than a minute to drop a huge ass _I survived my trip to NYC--_ shirt beside them. Peter looked at it and held up his index finger as he stammered:

“H-he paid for that right?” Tony gave him this look for even nearly accusing him of stealing a damn T-shirt and he sighed.

“I said take off the suit,” he commanded again. Peter swallowed.

“Not he --”

“Yes, right here.” Peter was starting to feel angry. This man was probably worse than all bad fathers alive. How could he belittle him like that?

“No. We can go down first,” he said. Tony shook his head. 

“No we do this my way. I say take it off. I can look away if you want, but I’m not leaving here without that,” Tony said, poking Peter’s chest, making the teen sniff as he felt the arrogance rise. 

“I’m not taking it off,” Peter said, smiling in disbelief. There was this glint in Tony’s eyes for a split second when he heard that, as well as a brief shadow of a smirk. He looked a little scary like that, but this only provoked the teen even more.  

“Hm. I’m gonna have to strip you if you don't listen to me right now kid,” Tony said. Peter clenched his fist. They were skyhigh, not like anyone would see him, but he just wasn’t planning on giving up without a fight now.

“Gotta catch me first.” He already regretted it before he even took the first few quick-steps to run away. In his head it all went ten times better: leaping off the edge of the building, putting on his mask and spidermanning outta here. 

But he didn’t get even as far as putting on his mask: two steps later and he smacked face-first straight into some cold hard metal as Tony’s armor a.k.a. Mark 47 stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

“Huwah!” Peter collided with the ground, and he began to struggle fiercely when said Iron Man suit bent down and picked him up by grabbing one of his arms.

“This is gonna make me feel _so_ bad,” Tony sighed as he followed after him so he could try and peel off his suit. Oh he hoped he did, feeling bad that is. Furious that he was trying to strip him and treating him like a little kid, even going as far as using that damn Iron Man suit, Peter jerked heavily when Tony’s fingers brushed against the suit-covered skin.

“Kid, stop this damn bullshit. I’ve got no time for thi --” Tony paused when weird little yelps came out of Peter.

“G-get ohoff me! You’re tihickling me!” Peter tried to swat at Tony’s hands with his free hand, but ten fingers now firmly dug into his suit-covered flesh, sending little shockwaves through all of his body and making him kick and thrash around. Tony cocked an eyebrow.

“You’ve got to be _kidding_ me?” he muttered. Peter hadn’t thought he would do it, but the ten invading fingers now began to poke him repeatedly, on purpose, and Peter began to thrash around even wilder. 

“HAha! No! Nohoho cut thahahat out!” The look of realization was still on Tony’s face, but apart from tickling him he was still looking all stern and serious. Peter was the only one laughing here, which did not make this situation any better.

“You’re making this a lot harder than it is," Tony sighed. Peter desperately struggled and tried to pull himself free, fighting against the Iron suit’s strength as he flipped himself over.

“If you just stay _still_....” Tony commanded, but he somehow got lost somewhere in that sentence as he continued to tickle Peter mischievously. If Peter wasn’t imagining things, he looked quite intrigued.

“EEhehhe!” Peter shrieked loudly, stretching his arm out to shoot little webs at anything that could pull him out of this mess, but with the way he flailed, nothing was aimed right. Especially when the armor gripped his second arm as well and trapped him tightly with its iron grip. 

“Mr. Stahahark!” he cried through heavy squeaky laughs. Not that he was planning on taking the suit off though. Not that he even _could_ , with his arms caught like this. 

Instead he drew up his legs and gave a few random kicks wherever he could reach, and was glad when he heard Tony sigh softly when he hit his leg. 

Glad for like one millisecond, because that little kick did nothing but provoke the Avenger more, and Tony gave him one ‘you’re officially fucked’-- look before he unleashed ten fingers and tickled his helplessly exposed ribs and armpits with energy that felt like it should be reserved for serious battles only.

“NOHA-Aaahhahha! S-stop! Nohoho not thehehere!” Peter felt quite guilty towards himself. This was what he had been asking for when he provoked Mr. Stark after their serious falling out. _This_. The one thing that appeared to be worse than anything in the world, worse than the worst beatings or humiliations: getting tickled to death - by the one man you look up to and got massively scolded by - and feeling his piercing eyes judge him with every laugh and cackle-sound he made. 

Not like any of the sweet moments when aunt May used to cheer him up with tickles. Nopes. This was the horror-side of that something he actually enjoyed, and no end seemed to be coming soon. 

“Hehehey this isn’t _fahair_!” Peter cried when the armor flipped him over and pinned him down onto his front as if he was some kind of ragdoll.

“As if I ever play fair,” Tony sighed, more to himself than as an answer to Peter, and his wriggling fingers left his underarms alone so he could take off his suit. But the moment his fingers got near his neck, Peter threw his head back so wildly that he felt that he hit Tony’s finger hard. It made a cracking noise and the satisfaction felt good for one moment.

“ _Hey_!” Tony sounded a little bit more angered, and Peter panicked inwardly when he was pushed over until he was lying face up on the ground. Mark 47 pinned both his arms firmly above his head, exposing him to its owner: some kind of man you would not want after you if he was angry _and_ totally aware of your worst weakness ever. 

“Lessons are learned the hard way kid. Let me show you.” Any villain would be scared and shitting their pants with the way Tony fucking Stark looked at him, and Peter himself had to admit he felt a liiittle bit scared too. He had the right to be: the tickle attack that followed was unlike anything else he’d ever experienced.

“NO! _Nohoho_ fu -- let gooo! Stooop! Mr. Stark p-please hehehe!” Peter was shrieking, squealing, laughing and _begging_ hysterically. That was his dignity vanishing in thin air right there, just like his chances of joining the Avengers.

His eyes watered and though his view was blurry, he could see that Tony still wasn’t cracking any smile. Just watching him with that stern look while he gave him a punishment of a lifetime. And that while Peter was sure he had all reason to laugh: with this stubborn boy beneath him, with a face that had a color that matched the red Iron Man armor and a shrieky laugh like a girl.

“NO! NOhoho s-stohop! P-please -- noooo!” Peter yelled when Tony clawed at his ribcage. His fingers were digging in repeatedly and sometimes gliding among the smooth fabric, switching between touches that made Peter scream to lighter touches that made him giggle and squeak. 

“AHa-alright! Alright I’ll tahahake it off! S-stop it!” That was fast - he hadn’t thought his moment of surrender was this close when he’d decided to be stubborn. But this wasn’t looking like anything worth getting tickled to death for: he wasn’t even sure anymore why he thought he had a chance.

“What did you say?” Tony told him in a low voice. Peter was only half-aware that his arms were released, but the moment when the realization sank in was also when he felt relieved.  

A feeling of relief that was short-lived, since Tony now grabbed him with his own hands and manhandled him back into a helpless position on the ground.

“I s-sahahaid I give! W-wait noohoho!” Peter cried when Tony pushed his hand between him and the floor to tickle his stomach. Peter began to wheeze breathlessly and little coughs began to interrupt his uncontrollable laughter. 

This was _exhausting_. His suit wasn’t exactly helping either, making him feel ten times more sensitive than usually.

“You’re not exactly helping yourself here,” Tony said, and Peter squealed when Tony began to peel at his suit near the back of his neck, causing calloused fingers to scrape at the sensitive skin there.

“I knohohow! Just stahahapa alr-ahahalready!” So not cool. Peter squirmed and struggled, but Tony slowly managed to take the suit off him while his fingers trailed down his bare back like little spiders -- the irony. 

All Peter was doing now was sniffling and giggling soundlessly. He had totally given up the thought of getting outta here without giving up the suit, and just allowed Tony to take it off him. It was extra bad when Tony got to his legs and gave some unwanted attention to those spots behind his knees. 

“There. Was that so hard?” Tony finally sighed when he got everything off, and Peter whined when the NYC-shirt was thrown into his face.

“Urgh...” His entire body was still tingling, and he couldn’t get up.

“Just...” Tony sounded awkward for a second, and Peter watched him turn away from him while Mark 47 stepped ahead. Deep down he hoped Tony would look at him, smile, laugh, like hell he had all permission to laugh at his ridiculous ticklishness, but naturally nothing of the sort happened. 

“Just fucking listen. Pull a prank again and I won’t hesitate to do... _that_.. to you again.” It was no surprise that both Tony Stark and suit took off like that, leaving Peter alone, half naked with nothing but a T-shirt to wear. 

In the end, it didn’t change anything. Peter had still messed the fuck up, Tony had still taken Peter’s suit, and he was now on his way back home, with a body that suffered from after-exhaustion and a gut feeling that his aunt would not be happy with him. 

Maybe it was all good that he got tickled like that after all, because to survive the following days he would need all the positive energy he could get.


End file.
